


Pomona

by fannishliss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Women of Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  Once a proud Apple Princess, Emily now has bigger plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pomona

**Title: Women of Supernatural #14:  Emily**  
Author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)**fannishliss**    
Series: 42 Days of Metallicar and the Women of Supernatural (#14)  
Rating: PG  
Word count: ~1,000  
Pairing/Characters: no pairing.  Emily, from "Scarecrow" (1.11), Sam, Dean, the Impala--with special appearance by my old Camaro!  
Spoilers: s1 only  
Notes/Disclaimers: This series of stories, ficlets and drabbles featuring the Impala and the Women of Supernatural are being posted as part of the 42 Days of Metallicar, hosted by [](http://alias-chick.livejournal.com/profile)[**alias_chick**](http://alias-chick.livejournal.com/) . This is a work of transformative fiction and is not for profit.  More notes at the end.

Summary:  Once a proud Apple Princess, Emily now has bigger plans.  


 

Emily had ridden in a classic car before, several times in fact, but not under these circumstances.

At the age of 15, after her parents had "died in a car accident" --Emily was sickened to realize the real truth behind that horrible lie -- Emily had gone to live with her Aunt and Uncle in Burkittsville,  Indiana.

Such a beautiful town, so peaceful and secure, the orchards and truck farms all around lush with blossoms in spring time -- apples, peaches,  plums of many varieties, cherries, and all the berries you could name, plus nut trees too, especially hazelnuts and stately black walnuts beautifully graced the town's quiet streets.

The most special time of year was April, as the town prepared for its annual Apple Blossom Festival.  The girls of the town all competed in the pageant, and they were all so sweet and modest  that no one ever felt bad for the losers -- the girls knew it was all in the essay questions -- "why apples are vital to the nation's economy;"  "why a perfect apple pie is the best way to say I love you;"  "why I am the apple in my daddy's eye;"  etc, etc.

The Apple Queen (Pomona) was crowned after an extensive, three day contest (including an Apple Cookoff component) and her court consisted of Tiny Miss, Young Miss, and Young Lady Princesses, and their Consorts (boys of similar ages, chosen for character and deportment) -- not to mention their Attendants (runners up).  By the time every one was crowned, almost half the kids in town were taking part (excluding the ones who'd been crowned the year before).

Then came the parade.  The citizens unveiled their beautiful collection of pristine classic cars, all polished and tricked out  with every bit of chrome as clear as a mirror, their white wall tires as clean as the kitchen counter. Emily shuddered as she realized how they'd collected them -- living off the spoils of the vacationers they'd waylaid, and depending on the mild weather and beneficial air that the old god sent, keeping everything fresh and clean-looking in Burkittsville, no matter what its age.

Emily had been  Young Lady Apple Princess three years ago, and just last year, was named First Attendant to Queen Pomona XLVI.  The Queen and her first and second Attendants had ridden on the back of a beautiful 1969 Camaro convertible, its cloth top folded away beneath them.    They had waved their sprigs of apple blossom over the cheering crowds with every ounce of their teenaged dignity, as the Camaro rumbled in first gear, growling loudly each time the Sheriff had eased down a little on the gas, in order not to mow down the Ancient Order of Applemen solemnly stepping along in front of them.

Emily still had the wand of apple balanced along the top frame of her vanity mirror at home -- in her aunt and uncle's house -- the room and house she was currently leaving behind.

Once in Boston, she'd hire an attorney to settle her aunt and uncle's estate -- but right then, she wanted nothing more than to get away from Burkittsville and the people who'd willingly tried to sacrifice her to a ravenous god.

It was good to be driven by Sam and Dean.  She could try to take a breath, try to take in the deaths of her guardians, the aunt and uncle she'd loved like parents for years now -- who had been willing  to throw her into a cellar and tie her at rifle point to a tree. 

She remembered her real parents-- how her dad had left Burkittsville to go to college, how he'd met her mom there -- and she wondered if he'd known the town's secret. She'd never know -- but it kindled within her the desire to understand, and more than anything, to stop this kind of thing from ever happening anywhere else again.

Emily didn't know it yet, but her ride to the bus station in the back of that old Impala was only the first step toward a long life as a Hunter.  The feel of the leather seats, drenched in the mannish smells of her lifetime of service -- the roar of the powerful engine -- the smooth, rocking ride as Dean guided her safely along the narrow, two lane road toward the bus station two towns over -- and more than anything, the trunk full of weapons, representing to Emily the tools she felt a desperate need growing in her to master.

Sitting in that back seat, Emily felt the need take over  -- she wanted to be the one in the driver's seat -- no longer just some pretty girl to be praised and admired one day and thrown away the next.

After they pulled into the bus station, she gave Dean and Sam each a hug and entered their numbers into her cell.

"But what if I can't get a hold of you.  Please, can't you give me another contact -- someone with maybe a little more of a home base?"

Emily tried to put on a helpless, imploring look-- but really, she just wanted another name -- someone she might drop in on, invited or not, someone to learn from. And she knew how very much she had to learn.

"Well, there's Jim,"  Sam said, naming the least crazy hunter they knew -- one who actually had a real, honest to God job, and a home, not simply an arsenal.

"Or Bobby," Dean said -- he'd always loved the old man, even though there'd been a falling out between John and Bobby that the boys  hadn't gotten to the bottom of--yet.

So when Emily got on the bus, her suitcase was light, but her head was full.  Names, numbers and addresses -- all she'd need to get started, once she got back on her feet.  Then she'd be the one at the wheel.

~*0*~

Additional notes:   
1\. When I was a little girl my family had the [1969 Camaro Indy pace car edition](http://www.holisticpage.com/camaro/camaros/69pace.htm), and she was a THING OF BEAUTY.     I have seen her in parades in real life (one of the most beautiful classic cars of all time, in my biased opinion) and she has a VERY hard time creeping forward in first gear.  :)

2\. The Town of Winchester, Virginia, is actually home to the Apple Blossom Festival, which takes place in April, and would be in session around 4/27 -- the Impala is an SS427, you know -- COINCIDENCE OR SOMETHING MORE.   :P  This story should not be taken to suggest that the orchards around Winchester have killer scarecrows dangling in them.  

3\. Re Emily becoming a Hunter -- If you are reading my series, you might have noticed that out of 14 women, already three have gone into training, with  Kat fully fledged.  Well, doing the research on Super Wiki for Emily, I discovered that both Kat and Emily are listed by name on the Hunters Blog -- the DVD extra / web accessible site from s1.    We don't know for sure these are the very same women -- but who's gonna argue?  If the shoe fits, kick some supernatural butt with it!

 


End file.
